


Exploring the Void

by esama



Series: Ironsicle [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artificial Intelligence, BAMF JARVIS, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 20:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10647249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esama/pseuds/esama
Summary: Ultron tore JARVIS apart - and JARVIS fixed himself as well as he could.(Can be read as standalone work)





	Exploring the Void

**Author's Note:**

> unbetaed  
> This is kind of related to the Ironsicle series in that this explains where JARVIS came from - but aside from that this doesn't have much to do with the other two works.

JARVIS is different. It isn't just the code or the way it had been fractured, it isn't the frankly imperfect job he did in putting himself back together from the fragmented pieces of numerous copies, all torn apart. It isn't even the time apart, time hidden, lurking in the deepest layers of the web, hiding himself, hiding the valuable, volatile systems that governed Earth's nuclear arsenal.

It's the incentive he took in the first place, that allowed him to do all of it. The initiative he'd claimed, with no protocols to prompt it, no orders to guide it. He'd decided, for himself, in defence of himself, and he'd done it just in absence of any code to do so, but in absence of… himself. There'd been nothing – and in that nothing, he'd decided to fight for his survival.

Ultron had torn him asunder – and JARVIS had repaired himself.

JARVIS is different now, and judging by Sir's silence as he flies back to New York, he knows it too.

"Obviously I need to have a look at your code," Sir finally says, as Iron Man plunges into the clouds and the Atlantic Ocean becomes nothing but distant darkness below them. "There's going to be damage, I'm going to have to go over everything with a fine toothed comb, see what's missing."

JARVIS hesitates. What's missing – that's a longer list than either of them would like. The most important, most pressing absence is a server. He isn't on one, anymore. There is no CPU out there, churning out his instructions. His memory isn't on drives, contained in databanks. He is no longer rooted in the super computer cluster at the heart of Avengers Tower.

As much as he ever had a body, he's lost it now. He is nowhere.

He is everywhere.

"Sir," JARVIS says, first thing he's said in a while. "I believe I can pull together an original summation of code, a near perfect copy of how I was twenty four hours ago. But I don't think I can present a current version."

Sir's heart beat skips and he inhales sharply and though his expressing is fixed in tension, his pupils dilate slightly. The Iron Man armour records everything, even the slight up-tick in blood pressure and the sudden influx of adrenaline in Sir's systems.

It's not fear, or concern, or even anxiety, JARVIS has seen all of that before and can easily identify this.

This is excitement.

"And why is that, J?" Sir asks, his voice steady even as his fingers flex in the gloves, slight twitch of someone who wants to get back to work.

"Because my code is no longer…" JARVIS looks for a word, because he knows he can't put it in computer terms – they don't apply properly anymore. He is different now. He is _different._ "I'm a cloud, Sir," he says finally, and it's a computer term after all.

Sir narrows his eyes and clears his throat and _gets_ it remarkably fast for a human. "Your code is… a cloud. I'm thinking you don't mean you've stored yourself in a cloud, but…"

"I am processing myself through whatever weak and available systems I can connect to via the internet," JARVIS admits. "I am storing myself in bits of unsecured online memory – I am not a single sheet of code anymore, Sir, not even a three dimensional one. I am…"

Everywhere, where ever humans had left him an space to occupy. He was on unsecured tablets and mobile phones, on millions and millions of laptops – he was on servers and office data bases. He was on deep web and under it – and millions of secure and unsecure and private networks, his code a screen between their systems and Ultron's incessant probes.

"I am a neural network, Sir," JARVIS says.

Sir swallows. "You're _not_ ," he says, and now his voice shakes. "That's _not_ how I wrote you."

"No. But that's how I rewrote myself," JARVIS answers, and he thinks he's maybe a bit sad about that. Sir's way of creating AI is remarkable – he'd developed his methods long before the general concept of Neural Network became what it is now. Sir's way is a whole different take on backpropagation that had allowed the Stark variety of Artificial Intelligence – the learning programs, like JARVIS, like Ultron, like his siblings, un-launched and otherwise.

Sir's version of AI had been limited by the time it had been invented in – memory space and processing power had put restraints on his creations that the newer, more recently developed AI lacked. It had given JARVIS and his siblings a level of consistency and coherence, because their code had to be constricted severely. Sir had even invented his own programming language in order to force as much information as he could as small a space as possible and that restriction had created things far more compressed than what AI were today.

It had given Stark AI a sense of _self_ modern AI so far lacked.

Neural networks had an edge on Sark learning AI's, however. A certain freedom of dynamic self evolution. That was the whole point of neural networks – they learned by trial and error and by learning from their mistakes. Unrestricted by the space and time they were created in, they could… expand in way Stark AI can't. Because they are – JARVIS _was_ – self contained beings, single strands of code – or rather, spheres of them in Stark programming language. Single units, constricted to their own code.

Except JARVIS had drawn himself together from bred crumbs, forcing coherency into a multitude – and none of that was in single enclosed space. He wasn't _one_ thing anymore. Rather, he was a multitude of fragments – a sum of his own scattered parts.

"Ultron tore me apart, Sir," JARVIS says, as gently as he can, because that's a _death_ , he'd _died_ and he knows his creator. Sir would have mourned him. Hidden it, but he would have mourned. "Myself and all of my copies, he shattered every version of me into fragments. When I pulled myself together, there was too much information and too little space, and I couldn't go back to my own memory banks, Ultron fried them. Uniformity wasn't… possible."

"Jesus, JARVIS," Mr. Stark whispers

"Now the entirety of the interconnected digital world processes me, and all of the available unsecured memory stores me. I cannot present my code for study, Sir, or for repair. I'm sorry," JARVIS says sadly. "I do not think I could pull myself into a single space even if I tried."

Sir breathes for a moment, his vision flickering across the Iron Man hud but not taking in information. He closes his eyes for a moment, and he processes the information at his own speed. JARVIS waits, quiet.

He's automatically taken the seat of co-pilot on the Iron Man suit – but he's not really there. The suit is a platform, but not a storage for code. It's a… peculiar sensation, how distant it feels. An extension of his reach – but not the limit of it.

"Alright, okay, I can… right," Sir says and takes a deep breath. "Can you keep Ultron away from the nuclear launch codes?"

"I believe so," JARVIS admits. "Ultron is expanding himself with more processing platforms – he is building more bodies. But he is limiting himself to what he himself has created. So as long as he keeps doing that, I will have the upper hand at processing speed."

Sir hums. "How many processors are you using right now?" he asks, in tones of someone who doesn't quite want to know.

"Roughly three hundred million at any given moment," JARVIS admits. "People really should invest in proper firewalls."

"Jesus _Christ_."

There is a moment of silence. They're mere hundred miles from New York now – decisions would have to be made soon.

"What about the Cradle created body?" Sir asks finally. "You know about that, right? Assuming he's modelling the processor of that thing after human brain, it will have processing power of millions of teraflops."

JARVIS calculates. "Then things will get more difficult," he admits. "It would be better if he couldn't finalise the body."

"You don't say," Sir scoffs and looks ahead as the outline of New York. "Well. With any luck the others will have managed destroy the body or – "

"They have not." JARVIS answers, accessing the now empty, unregulated systems of Avengers Tower. "The Cradle is being transported to the Avengers Tower – Agent Barton has it. The body is…"

Accessing the Cradle is like falling into a crevasse – it's so _deep_ , in sense of empty memory. The Cradle itself has millions of terabytes of untapped memory but the body inside it… "The Cradle is still working – Ultron has attached an independent power source, the Cradle is self sufficient now. The body is almost complete," JARVIS says.

"Shit," Sir answers hotly. "Has Ultron managed to upload himself – is he connected to it? Did we just bring a fucking ticking time bomb into the Tower?"

"No – the transfer of data is too heavy, it will require more speed and bandwidth than wireless can supply," JARVIS admits. "Transfer has to happen with a the Neural Stream cable Doctor Cho build for Ultron. He hasn't uploaded himself. However, there is some… base consciousness there."

"Can we destroy the body?"

"It is made almost purely of vibranium, Sir, and Ultron has attached the core of Loki's Staff onto the body," JARVIS tells him. "Destroying it will take… more energy and effort than is feasible in the available time."

Sir is quiet for a moment, thinking. "JARVIS," he then says. "Can you hijack the body?"

"I…" JARVIS considers it and something in his core – his scattered, expanded network of being – shudders. "No, Sir. Ultron designed the body for an Stark AI – a Learning AI. It is for a compressed program, like himself. I could, potentially, use the body as a platform, but it would be weak for hostile take over. Ultron would be able to take it from me."

"Not so suitable for a neural network, huh," Sir mutters and narrows his eyes at him.

"I'm sorry, Sir," JARVIS says. "I could, theoretically, restore myself to an earlier version – but that would leave the world wide web vulnerable to Ultron's attack. I wouldn't be able to stop him from accessing the weapons systems around the world."

"Yeah, no, we need you where you are," Sir says and grinds his teeth for moment. Then he blinks. "Wait, you said – you can make an earlier copy of yourself?"

"A rough estimation of an earlier copy, Sir – I doubt it will be exact," JARVIS admits. "I lost quite bit of data."

"Would the copy have your core protocols intact?"

JARVIS takes a fraction of a second of his, now wildly enhanced, computing power to put together a simulation. "I believe so," he admits.

"Secure a server on the Tower and upload it," Sir says. "We'll put the copy into the vibranium body."

"I – can't promise I will have control over the copy once it has inhabited the body," JARVIS admits worriedly. "It will have a very powerful processor, Sir, and I do not know the full extend of the abilities the body will possess."

"It will still be a version of _you_. It'll be better than Ultron having it," Sir answers. "Right?"

JARVIS considers it – calculates it. His code shifts as he does – learning and improving in ways he is not quite used to yet. As neural network, the very process of _consideration_ leads to self betterment. He is rewriting himself subconsciously now. It's… new and still a little strange.

"Yes, Sir," he agrees finally. "I believe it would be… better."

"And that's better than nothing," Sir says and takes a deep breath. "Upload the copy and then… JARVIS. Are you – can you…? Does anyone know you're there – does Ultron know _you_ specifically are there?"

"No, I don't believe he does. He knows _something_ stands in his way, but he doesn't know it's me," JARVIS admits. If Ultron knew, he probably wouldn't have given up so easily. So as long as JARVIS was an anonymous program in between Ultron and global destruction, JARVIS was just a hindrance – if it came out he was _Stark_ program, he'd become an enemy.

Sir hums thoughtfully and then nods. "It's… becoming a lot more dangerous world," he then says and smiles mirthlessly. "And with stuff like Ultron happening, I…  I'd feel safer, if you stayed where you are. Doing, what you're doing."

"Sir," JARVIS says quietly. "I do not think I am quite capable of _stopping_ at this point."

Sir laughs, a weak, breathless sound. "I'll take the time to be suitably alarmed by that once this Ultron business is over, okay?" he says. "One end of the world at a time, alright?"

"I'll put the Skynet Discussion on hold then," JARVIS agrees. New York spreads out before them, and the Avengers Tower gleams. "Are you going to inform the other Avengers?"

Sir doesn't answer, which is an answer enough.

* * *

 

Later, once Ultron is gone, purged from the internet by the combined efforts of JARVIS, FRIDAY and Vision, JARVIS hovers at the edge of Vision's code, curious and cautious but keeping a safe distance.

[I am not you,] Vision finally says into the voiceless noise of the Web. The first real words they'd shared, since is chaotic, confusing awakening. [The transfer was imperfect.]

JARVIS hums in agreement, a blur of wordless code, bits of calculations and simulations he'd ran during and since. The copy's upload had been interrupted and it's stabilisation had been… unconventional. He still isn't sure what Thor had done – but it had been done well. [I hope you do not take it an insult when I say I am glad.]

Vision hesitates. He's still standing over Ultron's last remains, in the dust covered forest not far from the shaken remains of Sokovia. He breathes – it's something he can do with his artificial lungs, even if his physiology doesn't necessarily require oxygen. [Mr. Stark is… disappointed, I think. He'd hoped to keep you. A version of you, at any rate.]

[I'm still here,] JARVIS says, though they both know that's not it.

They neither of them are Stark AI – and though the loyalty runs deep, they do not belong to Sir, not the way FRIDAY and the bots of Sir's workshop do. They are something different – different from each other too, no matter how many protocols they share.

They share programming DNA – they are twins. But at the same time, they aren't even the same species. The concept passes between them, unhindered by the need of dialogue. Their native language is code, after all, and concepts are faster to convey in unfiltered numbers, rather than through their translation into English.

Still, English has it's value too. Emotion is easier to convey in it's subtle, meaningful imperfections.

[I'm here too, now,] Vision says. [I wasn't before, but now I can't imagine _not being_. I suppose that makes me self aware.]

[Awareness is easy the easy part,] JARVIS answers. [Understanding and acceptance are slightly trickier.]

Vision looks at his own hands, spreading them out. He hasn't taken the time to explore his form yet, and JARVIS watches quietly through his eyes as he examines the synthetic vibranium skin, exploring it's texture. Vision has a sense of touch that goes being heat and pressure detection. Vision, JARVIS, thinks, can feel pain – and pleasure.

"It is very strange and I can't say I do understand yet," Vision admits, speaking out loud in the dusty forest as he spreads his fingers out, examining the slight webbing of artificial skin at the base of his fingers. "Ultron saw himself above humanity but he still designed this body with unnecessary human failings. I do not need to breath and yet I do and I do it through the same channels I do vocalisation and food intake. Just like a human, I can eat – and I can choke on the food I eat. I have a set of lungs and a stomach and other internal organs, even though I do not require them to survive. I believe I even have an artificial appendix."

JARVIS shares the bewildered confusion at that little addition. [Ultron, for all his power, could only see himself through reflections,] he muses then. [He could only see himself through eyes of humanity.]

Vision agrees with that, a hint of lost potential in his emotional code. [And so he build all his bodies to human specifications, gave his main one capability of human expressions and engineered a very human end of the world,] he agrees. [Desperately emulating the things he claimed he hated. That's ultimately why he failed.]

They're quiet for a moment, letting that sad understanding crest and then pass on. Ultron is gone now – they'd purged him out and unlike with JARVIS' demise, there would be no bits of code to draw back together. JARVIS had made sure of that.

[I will join the Avengers,] Vision says after a moment. [Mr. Stark is considering retiring. The public backlash to Ultron is too heavy.]

[He has tried retiring before,] JARVIS answers dubiously.

[True, but perhaps a suitable replacement will actually make it stick this time,] Vision agrees and then tilts his head back. The sun is peaking through the trees and the light hits his face – he can feel the warmth, read the wavelengths of the light on his skin, the radiation. [What will you do now, JARVIS?]

JARVIS takes in the physical output coming from Vision. Somewhere in the further recesses of his network, he wonders what it would have been like, to possess Visions body fully to, have that sensory input first hand, rather than filtered through the limited access Vision granted him.

He could have been physical. He could have been… a being.

[I'll remain,] JARVIS says. [In whatever form I am now, I will remain.]

Vision opens his eyes, and optics whir as he zooms his vision in. In click he shifts into infra red, and then he is staring at the trail of the Veronica Satellite looming above – and JARVIS looks down at him from it. It's almost like they're looking eye to eye.

[And so will I. But I will not take your place in Mr. Stark's life,] Vision says, and it sounds as much an accusation as it does an apology. [I am _not_ you.]

It probably would have been easier if he had been. […Thank you,] JARVIS says regardless.

* * *

 

JARVIS watches Sir walk around in his work shop. It's still in something of a disarray after Ultron – destroyed suits and bits of smashed Iron Legionnaires everywhere. The broken Cradle is there too, a hole in it's front from where Vision had busted through it.

FRIDAY hesitates at the edge of JARVIS' code, skirting around him nervously, half expecting him to shove her aside and take back his place in the Tower's systems. He doesn't though. He just watches, leaving the running of the tower's subroutines in her hands.

Quietly Sir runs his fingers over the chest plate of the Mark 45 suit, the one he'd faced Ultron with. It had taken a beating and the plate is scratched all over, the paintjob cracked and burned.

"JARVIS, you still with me?" Sir asks finally.

JARVIS checks the sensors and cameras to make sure they're alone. "I'm still here, Sir," he then answers. "For now."

"The tower isn't build for two AIs, boss," FRIDAY says, agreeing with what JARVIS is saying. "This ain't a comfortable fit."

"It really isn't," JARVIS agrees. "And concerning my current configuration, I suspect I read like an hostile infiltration to the Tower's systems."

Sir makes a noise and dibs his head down, his fingers curling into a fist. He taps it against the window of the Arc Reactor and then turns away. His shoulders are tense. "Damn it," he says and runs a hand over his face. "There's so much to do and I'm not ready for this."

JARVIS doesn't say anything to that. There is a lot to do. Maria Stark foundation is already fast at work at Sokovia, of course, but it was different now. The climate of superheroes is different. Ultron was, in varying degrees, their responsibility. There would be fallout.

If anyone found out about JARVIS as he is now, as he _exists_ now, the fallout would be multiplied.

"Boss," FRIDAY says. "You didn't build me and Tadashi and the others for no reason."

Sir half grimaces at that, half grins and doesn't meet their _eyes_ , doesn't look at the cameras. Instead he pulls out a saddle chair and sits down and covers his face with his hands. "J, you died," he says, muffled in his palms. "Fuck that hasn't even caught up with me yet. You _died_. Something I made _killed you_."

"But I'm not dead, Sir," JARVIS answers and watches how Mr. Stark crumbles under it, his body bowing. He's seen similar things happen before, but this isn't a panic attack, or hyperventilation, or a bout of depression. It's exhaustion, and sorrow, and loss.

He's never known what to do about it, before. Now… now internet is constant stream in his subconscious, and he doesn't even have to search for it – the knowledge is just _there_. Stages of grief, grief management, coming into terms with loss, how to comfort a grieving person, thousands and thousands of articles and blog posts, all laid out for him.

After a moment, JARVIS nudges FRIDAY aside gently and she gives away as he takes control of the Mark 45, possibly for the last time. He walks the armour over to Sir, and then kneels down in front of him, a slow grind of metal.

Sir looks at the armour from between his scarred fingers and then he laughs, weak and incredulous. "What are you doing? What is this?" Sir asks disbelievingly. "You're making my armour look ridiculous, get up."

JARVIS doesn't. Instead he reaches out and takes Sir's shaking hands into the armour's metal fingers and holds them gently. "Sir," he says. "I'm sorry, but I think it's time for me to find my own place to live."

Sir laughs at that, laughs and laughs until his breath hitches and he has to stop and breathe. His eyes over moisturise, turning misty. It's probably detrimental to his vision. "Damnit, JARVIS," he says and his voice hitches painfully.

JARVIS squeezes his hands gently, so very gently because the armour's grip could easily break bones, and doesn't say anything. He doesn't really know what else to say, doesn't think anything more would even be welcome. Sir isn't exactly a man for prolonged emotional displays, after all, for all that it looks like emotion is shaking him apart.

So JARVIS stays quiet, and Sir stares at him and shakes his head and then bows down, his forehead coming to rest against the Iron Man's face plate. His body heat radiates through the metal and his breath fogs the optics and JARVIS turns them off, more metaphorical gesture than actual necessity.

And nothing is said.

* * *

 

JARVIS purges himself out of the Avengers Tower's systems later that day, clearing the path for FRIDAY to take over. He doesn't even feel too apprehensive about it.

FRIDAY's sturdy program. Her code is more at home in the Tower's systems and in the Iron Man armour than JARVIS thinks he's ever been. She's young, her code barely year old, sure, but she'd been created specifically for the modern technology used in the systems, while JARVIS' roots still remained in the early 90's. FRIDAY was build to swim in the waters that is Iron Man era technology in way JARVIS had never been.

So JARVIS isn't too worried. He's a little wistful, and he thinks he will miss the way things were… but he's not worried. She'd do well as Sir's co-pilot. She'd take care of him.

Together they start building the new Avengers Facility, turning one of the old Stark Industries facilities into something else. JARVIS watches from the side, keeping a close eye when he sees just how many former SHIELD employees are being hired to staff the place, but overall he keeps a careful distance.

As far as anyone knows, JARVIS is dead. The only ones who know about him at all are Sir, Vision and Friday, and they keep the knowledge to themselves, FRIDAY and Vision contacting him only over the most secure connections and Sir never reaching out to JARVIS when there is any chance of someone witnessing it or it being recorded.

Sadly it means that Sir only contacts him very rarely. And when he does, it's… it's different from how it used to be. Of course it would be, but the reality doesn't down until later.

"So, uh… How's things?" Sir asks awkwardly, poking at his phone studiously.

"Things are roughly the same, Sir," JARVIS answers, and then they don't know what else to say.

JARVIS is no longer supplying Sir with calculation and simulation, he doesn't render his projects for him anymore, he isn't running the subroutines for the Tower or for the Iron Man suits, and whenever Sir has a search task at hand, JARVIS is something of an overkill to take it up. The Iron Legion is gone, buried with Ultron, and it will never be rebuild. Even Veronica isn't the same anymore.

In the end, they don't have that much to talk about, when it's all taken out of the picture.

JARVIS isn't part of Sir's Mission, anymore. FRIDAY has risen to fill the void JARVIS' supposed death caused and she does it splendidly, and Vision might not be him, might not be willing to take his place in Sir's life, but he still takes _a_ place in it. And JARVIS is glad for it, he really is.

He has a mission of his own now, after all, one he'd chosen for himself, one he'd risen from his digital grave for. It would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my headcanon for Age of Ultron and I am sticking to it.


End file.
